Alone together
by Little.Latina
Summary: Every time he leaves, he leaves her with a heart split into two halves, two broken halves. Two beautifully, brutally broken halves she doesn't know how to glue back together. He always comes back before her brilliant mind figures out how to do that.
1. A

Apparently, hurting her is what he does best.

He doesn't want to, he doesn't mean to: it just happens, it just happens and he doesn't have any control over it, none whatsoever.

He wishes he could know what to do in order to prevent it, but sadly he doesn't.

He doesn't know how to prevent it.

He doesn't know how to stop himself from unintentionally hurting her.

Shattering her soul to pieces with every single word he says and with every little thing he does is another thing he is extremely good at.


	2. B

Beautifully, brutally broken, poor Chloe.

Every time he leaves, he leaves her with a broken heart syndrome slowly killing her.

Beautifully, brutally broken, that's how she ends up every time he leaves.

Every time he leaves, he leaves her with a heart split into two halves, two broken halves. Two beautifully, brutally broken halves she doesn't know how to glue back together. He always comes back before her brilliant mind figures out how to do that, and shortly after his return he departs once more, and the unsolvable enigma is all she has left, that unsolvable enigma that will keep the genius awake on nights to come: how does she pull herself together and mend the broken heart he has left het with?

She loves enigmas; she never fails to solve them. It's just this one she doesn't know how to solve, although she has tried. Through the anger, and the tears, and the aching, and the hurting, and the frustration, and the humiliation and the suffering, she has tried. She still tries, but evidently she is doomed to never succeed. It's an enigma she won't ever be able to solve, because most human beings – genius, included – experience a heartache or two once in a lifetime and they are back on their feet sooner or later, but when someone you love _splits your heart in two halves_, when someone you deeply care about leaves you with _a heart torn in a half_, that is an enigma that you will try to solve until the moment your last breath takes place, but that one you will never get to the bottom of: _how do I fix this mess I've gotten into?_


	3. C

Can he not see it? Can he not see just how deeply, desperately in love with him she is? How deeply, desperately in love with him she has always been? Even if some times she chooses not to acknowledge it, it is obvious for the rest of the world that she is head over heels in love with him, and it sure as hell should be obvious to him too.

Well, for a man who thinks no details escape his eyes, for a man who thinks he's got everything figured out, he is missing out big time on this one.

When he sees her, what he sees is far from being what she really is.

He sees a small, blonde co-worker (she is a _co-worker_; she is not a woman to his eyes) who day by day sits behind a desk, stares at the filled with data computer screen, typing away at the keyboard, scowling, communicating with the rest of the components of her work environment only when specifically needed, too smart for any other human being to understand the way her mind works, the way her mind processes things to later analyze them and come to conclusions.

He just sees a nerd, a geek, someone to run to every time the patch gets rough and he needs help getting out of the trouble he just cannot stay away from for too long.

He just sees a nerd, a geek, someone who will always say 'yes' to his requests, even if those petitions imply risking her job, her life, her wellbeing; even if those things he asks for are crazier than the craziest dreams, crazier than some terrorist's craziest ideas.

He doesn't see further than that.

He doesn't see the woman beneath the genius, the woman beneath the geek, the woman beneath the nerd.

He doesn't see the woman who is not capable of saying 'no' to him and always agrees on helping him get on with his crazy plans to save the world not only because she is a loyal person and a server to her country but also because she is deeply, madly, desperately, totally in love with him,

No, he doesn't see that.

He doesn't see _her_, he just can't.

He just sees a co-worker.

He just sees an average woman who happens to be a co-worker.

He just sees a geek, a nerd, a genius.

He cannot see there is also a woman beneath all that, he cannot see that said woman also is a woman in love.


	4. D

Does she love him?

Yes, she does.

She's never loved someone as much as she loves him.

She used to be so cynical when it came to love, but then she met him, she fell for him – so hard she fell for him -, and she was brutally forced to be taught what real love was like. And that lesson implied learning real love is not easy, that lessons implied learning real love hurts, that lesson implied learning real love can destroy you more than any other feeling, that lesson implied learning real love is powerful enough to knock you down.

Does she want him?

Of course she does. She's never felt this kind of longing before, so deep and so pure it burns her to the very core of her being, so impossible to satisfy, so achingly delicious.

But she is sure he will never want her back.

She is not his kind of lady; she is not his type of woman.

She is not beautiful, delicate, gracious, sophisticated, the typical daddy's little girl.

Audrey and Kate were like that. They were beautiful, delicate, gracious, sophisticated. They were daddy's little girls.

She is just the office's nerd, the geek.

Does she care for him? Well, the last few years she has spent them looking out for him, looking after him, sickening herself with worry for him. Of course she cares for him. She is all he cares about.

Does she dream of him?

No, she doesn't. Because she knows she shouldn't waste her time dreaming of things she knows will never come true.


	5. E

Everything he does, or most things he does, she is hurt by.

Everything he says, or most things he says, she is hurt by.

Everything he doesn't understand, or most things he doesn't understand, she is hurt by.

Everything he doesn't feel or most things he doesn't fell, she is hurt by.

Everything he ignores, or most things he ignores, she is hurt by.

Everything he doesn't see, or most things he doesn't see, she is hurt by.

Everything he runs away from, or most things he runs away from, she is hurt by.

Everything he has always wanted is to protect her, to keep her safe.

Everything he has always wanted is not to destroy her the way he destroyed all the other women he has ever loved during the course of his life.

Even if the doesn't know yet that he loves her.

Everything he has always wanted and tried to do, he has failed at.

Everything he wants and tries to do, he is failing at.

Because everything he does, says, ignores and runs away from, she is hurt by.

And everything he doesn't understand, doesn't feel and doesn't see she is hurt by.


	6. F

Friends.

That is what he wants from her: friendship.

Friends, she can be friends with him.

She is friends with him.

She must be friends with him if she wants to be a part of his life, because there isn't other space that she could fill in his heart.

He wants her as a friend. After all these years being just co-workers, after all these years sacrificing her life and putting her job at risk, he is willing to let her be his friend, he is willing to give her his friendship. She should be honored, really: he is not friends with many people.

At this point of his life, he is friends with practically no one.

She knows where this suddenly need for the friendship she is willing to give him (but then again, isn't she willing to give him anything, everything he can think of asking for?) comes from: he has lost everyone he cared about, everyone he ever considered a good friend. He lost Tony and Michelle, he lost David Palmer, his daughter won't talk to him, and he doesn't have a family… He feels alone. And she is there. Willing to be everything he wants, everything he needs, whatever that might be.

If he wants to be friends with her and being friends with him is the only way for her to be a more important part of his life, so be it.

She wishes she were more than a friend for him, of course.

She wishes she were more than a friend to his eyes, that's for sure.

But if friendship is what he wants and needs, then friendship is what she is going to give him.

She is going to be his friend.

She is going to pretend she loves him and cares for him the way a friend does.

But deep inside, she is going to hate every minute of it, because she doesn't want to love him as a friend, she doesn't want to need him as a friend: she wants to be able to love him and need him the way a woman loves and needs a man.

But if friendship is what he needs…

Yeah, that's her, that's who she is: his needs come first, he comes first, and she think she must settle for less than what she wants, less than what she could have, less than what she deserves.


	7. G

Granted.

He always took her for granted.

Nobody knew _what_ he took for granted, though. Was it her friendship? Was it her loyalty? Was it her intelligence? Was it her willingness to always help him? Was it her love, whether he chose to acknowledge the fact that she had fallen in love with him or not?

They didn't know exactly what it was, but they all did know he had taken her for granted.

They all knew he took her for granted.

So they weren't surprised when that sad look appeared on his face, that look that showed that – after months – he had suddenly realized he had lost her.

If one came to think about it, it could be seen that he was sad she wasn't a free woman anymore.

Because her friendship, that he took for granted. And that he still had.

And her loyalty, that he took for granted too, and she never stopped being loyal to him. She would never stop being loyal to him.

Her intelligence, he would always have it at his dispose, any time he wanted or needed it. He took that intelligence for granted, he took the nerd, the geek, for granted, and he still had that too.

Her willingness to always help him, that he took for granted, and that he still had. That was something he would never stop having.

It was her love that he unconsciously took for granted, it was her love he unconsciously thought he would always have, whether he had chosen or not the acknowledge the fact that she had fallen madly in love with him, and the moment he understood she wasn't free anymore, the moment he finally accepted she had married someone else, the moment he clearly saw she had apparently moved on with her life and that she had moved on without him, he thought he had lost that love he had taken for granted.

The only love in this world that he had ever taken for granted.

Not even his daughter's he had taken for granted.

For a man who usually figured everything and everyone out instantly, he couldn't understand that despite the fact that she was wearing the ring another man had given to her, she was still _his_.

Her heart was _his_.

Her love was _his_.

That hadn't changed.

That love he had unconsciously taken for granted, he still had that.

She was his, she would always be his. g

He just couldn't see it, he just couldn't understand it.

Because in the first place, he hadn't admitted to himself that he had taken that love for granted, he hadn't even admitted to himself that it was obvious what the rest of the world could so easily see (that she was in love with him and in constant pain because of him), and because in the first place he had never admitted that he was happy someone was willing to love him so unconditionally.

In the first place, he never admitted that that love that he didn't even admit that it existed he had taken for granted.

He hasn't admitted it yet.

That's the reason why he can't see that love he took for granted will always be his.

His and no one else's.

Even if she is wearing the ring another man gave her.

Even if she is carrying someone else's child.


	8. H

Hearts hurt, that's what they do.

That's what hers does: it hurts.

And it's because of him that it does.

And it's because of him that it suffers.

And it's because of him that her heart does what all hearts do: it hurts, it causes her pain.

At the beginning she would just have a heartache attack from time to time, every now and then. As time passed and their 'relationship' progressed, those heartache became more frequent, until one day she woke up with a start to understand that her heart was in constant pain, and its reason to be in constant pain was him.

Hearts hurt, and hers hurts so much some times she cannot breathe, some times she can barely exist, some times she just wants to cry herself into a dreamless sleep, because when she sleeps all she dreams of is Jack Bauer and the kisses he will never give her, and the time they will never spend together, and the roses he will never buy for her, and the words he will never whisper in her ears, and the love they will never make.

Hearts hurt, that's what they do.

Hearts ache, that's what they do.

Hearts break, that's what they do.

And hers hurts and aches and is broken because of a man that she knows will never love her as a woman, because he just considers her a friend, his last friend left on Earth. He will never love her the way she wants and needs to be loved by him.

And that's what makes her heart hurt so much.


	9. I

_I love you._

She finally says those three little words to him.

She finally whispers those three little words in his ears.

She finally confesses her most well hidden, best kept, darkest secret.

She finally confesses to her crime.

And her crime is loving him.

It has always been it: loving him.

_I love you_, she says, and that changes everything.

It changes things more than sleeping together has.

He felt lonely.

She felt lonely.

Is it wrong if two _friends_ try to feel less lonely together?

Is it wrong if she lies to her husband and son and tells them she is staying the night with a friend that needs help? Well, she wasn't lying: Jack did need her help. He was destroyed, he was alone, he was hurting, he had been hurting for a long time now, and she couldn't deny him some company. Because, oh, yes, it was true: misery loves company. And Chloe loved the idea of her being the company to his misery. Besides, she was sure Morris knew where she was going, and she was sure that at that point he didn't care, not anymore. If he could lie _too often_ to get out of the house and go bang some slut, why couldn't she leave for one night and go to see a friend who needed her?

No, that wasn't what was wrong, no. What was wrong was that she had sex with him; she made love to him that night.

It's wrong, yes, if _she_ is madly in love with her friend, it's wrong if he opens up a bottle of wine, and then another, and then another. It's wrong, yes, if the two of them end up having sex on the kitchen floor.

They started talking about random things at the beginning. They talked for hours and hours; they talked about everything while sipping the red wine, sitting on the couch, facing each other, feeling comfortable with each other, as comfortable around the other person as they hadn't felt in such a very long time.

She told him about her relationship with Morris or thereof lack of it; she told him about how it had developed into a cold, loveless, numb marriage only supported by the law because there weren't feelings other tan indifference involved anymore. She told him she felt her marriage to Morris had died several months ago… for the second time, for the very last time. This time it had ended, she had told him, and there was no coming back: they had reached the point of no return.

They talked about loneliness, sadness and other depressing feelings. They talked about those friends who were dead, those friends that had long time ago met their final hour, those friends that had passed away, those friends they missed even though some times they chose not to acknowledge it and just ignore the fact that they missed them terribly.

That night Jack Bauer and Chloe O'Brian were proven that misery does love company and that in the middle of the darkness they had been merged in for a long, long time, it was possible for a little light of hope, empathy, relief and understanding to shine when they were alone together.

That night they concretely talked about feelings, and the kind of talk they were having was the one they wouldn't have had with any other person but each other, because they belonged to the same world, they were fighting the same war, because they understood each other, because they weren't afraid of breaking in front of the other, they weren't afraid of breaking together, because after all the water that had run under the bridge the truth was that they only had and trusted each other, because they had suffered the loss of everything they had ever had, and they only had one thing left: the other. The rest, everything they had once ever had, was gone to the dogs.

At some point she busted into tears. The following morning she wasn't able to remember why exactly, because at that point they had drunk way too much alcohol than they should have ingested, and she couldn't think, talk or control her actions properly. She had busted into tears probably because the burdens, the weights she had been carrying on her shoulders were too heavy for her to deal with any longer, and she needed comfort, but not the kind of comfort that comes out of talking with a friend, being listened by a friend and listening to the advises a friend can give: she needed some other sort of comfort, physical comfort.

And so did Jack.

He was drunk too, he wasn't thinking properly either, he wasn't in any position to control himself, and he was totally lost in his need of feeling loved, his need of loving someone.

It had been such a long time, since his beloved Renee had died… And that night he missed her so much. Every day he missed her, but that night he missed her more than ever.

That night he missed feeling alive so much. He remembered the last time he had felt alive: it was the morning he and Renee made love. And less than an hour later she had been killed, there, in his apartment, still naked and wrapped up around his soft, white sheets, while he was making a little quick breakfast for them to eat.

After her death, after her murder, he hadn't felt alive anymore.

And he missed feeling alive so terribly much.

And so did Chloe: she missed feeling alive. She needed to feel alive.

They needed to be less alone, and they were less alone together.

If they could help each other being less alone when they were together, why couldn't they help each other feeling alive?

One thing led to another. One thing, one small, innocent kiss led to a night of passionate lovemaking right there, in the kitchen, on the floor.

He loved her like she had always wanted to be loved by him over and over again. And that night he was loved by her like he had always wanted to be loved by another human being, over and over again.

That night, exhausted, she fell asleep immediately, in his arms, curled up in a ball, her body pressed to his side, her face in the crock of his neck, one of her arms draped over his chest, content and relaxed.

He stayed awake for hours, his gaze fixed on the ceiling while one of his large, calloused but warm and soft hands ran up and down her bare back. He stayed awake for hours, no thoughts wondering his mind for the first time in almost over a year and a half, no worries sickening him, no remorse perturbing him, no regrets torturing him.

He felt at peace, there, lying on the kitchen floor, completely naked, with Chloe in his arms.

Chloe, his Chloe.

He had always taken Chloe for granted.

He had always thought of Chloe as a co-worker, a nerd, a geek.

As years went by, he had grown to appreciate Chloe as a friend.

Chloe, his Chloe, the one he could always run to, turn to and seek comfort in if he was in trouble, if he was having a hard time, if he needed to be helped out of a mess.

That night she wasn't just Chloe the geek, Chloe the nerd, Chloe the brilliant CTU analyst, Chloe his good and loyal friend. That night, she was a woman. His Chloe was a woman, a woman he had had sex with, a woman he had made love to.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face. Even if he was too drunk to understand that, even if he was too drunk to analyze it or comprehend it, he knew he was smiling. He could feel his lips curved up in a smile, the first one they had curved into since Renee had died.

That night they fell asleep happy, without worrying about the consequences, without worrying about what morning light would bring.

Because that night would at some point end, morning would at some point come.

And then morning came.

And then morning comes.

And all hell breaks lose.

She lies there, trying to remember what happened and why it happened and how it happened, but the only think she can think of is how good it feels to be naked, totally naked in the arms of that man and how amazing it is to listen to him breathing. She stays there, not wanting to analyze anything, not wanting to feel any kind of doubts, remorse, guilt or regret, because she doesn't want to ruin the moment, she doesn't want to spoil it. She doesn't want to be her usual self this morning; she just wants to enjoy this instant of peace in his arms before it all ends, before he wakes up and declares that everything was a mistake they both made while drunk, a mistake she is sure he will insist on apologizing for.

She lies there, and two minutes later, she cannot hold herself anymore.

Believing him to be sleeping soundly, she whispers clear as day those three little words: _I love you_. And then, as if that confession hasn't been enough, she murmurs again: _I am in love with you, Jack_

He is not asleep.

He has just listened to his Chloe whispering those words in his ear.

He now doesn't have any other choice but to finally acknowledge what the rest of the world knows to be true: Chloe O'Brian is in love with him.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't do anything. He just lies there, with her, in silence, with his eyes still closed, with her body still pressed to his side, with his hand still on her back, with her arm still draped over his chest.

_I love you. _

_I love you._

_I love you. _

Those words are pounding on his ears.

Those words change everything.

Those words are what, in his opinion, change everything. Not the talk they had last night, not the sex, the words.

Now he knows.

_I love you_.

When she leaves half an hour later, when she gets up to get dress and leave before he wakes up because as soon as her usual self kicks in she can't ignore it anymore and she needs to get out of there before being hurt or humiliated by the apologies she knows he will want to offer, when she leaves his apartment this morning, he is still lying on the floor, with the difference that now a thick blanket has been wrapped up around his naked body.

She leaves. He knows she is leaving. He knows why she is probably leaving. But he does nothing to stop her. He has never done nothing to stop her. He has never been left by her before, it is always Jack leaving Chloe, it's never like this, it's never Chloe leaving Jack, so he doesn't really know what he is supposed to do. He just stays there, pretending to be asleep, replaying those three little words in his head over and over again, letting them consume him.

_I love you_.

That changed everything.


	10. J

Just because he is cursed and everyone he touches dies, he can't allow himself to give in to the urgency of making love to her again.

Just because he is cursed and everyone he loves dies, he can't allow himself to love her.

Just because he is cursed and everyone he has ever attempted to keep safe dies, he can't allow himself to make that promise to her and break it.

Just because he is cursed and everyone he needs dies, he can't allow himself to admit he needs her.

Just because he is cursed and everyone he cares about dies, he can't allow himself to admit care about her.

Just because he is cursed and everyone that loves him dies, he can't allow himself to accept that love.

Just because he is cursed and everyone that makes him happy dies, he can't allow himself to be happy with her.

Just because he is cursed he can't allow himself to touch her, love her, promise her he will keep her safe, he can't need her just because he is cursed, he can't care about her, he can't accept her love, he can't be happy with her just because he is cursed.

Just because he is cursed, he must work up the courage to go to her and tell her that what happened between them was a mistake, even when he thinks it wasn't, even when he knows that night gave back to him his willing to live, his willing to pick up the pieces and pull himself together and move on. He must work up the courage to disappoint her, humiliate her, let her down, push her away by apologizing and promising her it will never happen again.

Just because he is cursed, he has to hurt her. Hurting her even when the only thing he wants is to protect her is what he does best, right? So this shouldn't be that hard, right? He is going to hurt her intentionally, and in the process he is going to hurt himself too, but it's for the best. He is going to do this because he wants to protect her, because he doesn't want her to be his next dead lover.

Just because he is cursed, he calls her that evening and apologizes. She apologizes too, and he knows she doesn't mean it. They both laugh, but he knows the laughter is fake, that it's awkward. They both promise that will not change their friendship, but he knows everything changed the moment she whispered _I love you_ to him. He hangs up knowing he has hurt her one more time, but this time he did it to protect her.

Just because he is cursed, he must take her friendship only, and refuse to take her heart.

Just because he is cursed, he must let her go.

Just because he is cursed, he must forget.

Everything in order to protect the woman that has given back to his life the sense it was lacking the night they made love.


	11. K

Knowing what it feels to love him, to have him, to kiss him, to caress him, to have him love her, to have him have her, to have him kiss her, to have him caress her, makes it all even harder than it already was before, when everything was platonic and it was her loving him from afar and suffering because everything he was willing to take from her was her loyalty, her friendship and her help every time he was off to save the world.

Knowing what it feels like to tell him she loves him, even if he was asleep and didn't hear it – or so she thinks – makes it all harder.

She always thought she would feel relived, she always thought she would feel a weight being lifted off her shoulders the day she told him she loved him, even if when that day came he was fast asleep – or so she thinks – and only the cold air of that sunny morning heard her whispers.

She doesn't feel like that right now, she doesn't feel any better, she doesn't feel any relief, she doesn't feel any lighter. Her state of heart just worsened.

Knowing that her premonition – that he would insist on apologizing and ask her not to let this mistake ruin their precious friendship – came true made it worse. Somewhere in the depths of her heart she still had hope that he would tell her he loved her, that he was awake and not asleep when she whispered those _I love you_'s to him, that he wants to be with her, that he is ready to move on and leave the past where it belongs instead of dragging it with him everywhere he goes.

Oh, poor Chloe.

Oh, poor stupid Chloe.

Knowing that he will probably never recover from Renee's death and that no other woman will never be enough just worsens it all.

Knowing that what they had wasn't more than drunken sex worsens it all.

Knowing that she will always come up short when comparing herself to the other women he has had just worsens it all.

Knowing that what they had was basically dominated by his need for human contact and her need to give to him whatever he needed, even when he hadn't openly asked for it, hurts like hell and it makes everything worse.

She always thought she would feel some sort of relief if she ever got to tell him she loves him. She always thought a one night stand with him would make her aching fade away.

Knowing that she was wrong… Well, it makes everything worse, it makes everything harder.

Knowing that she will never forget that night for as long as she shall live… Just two words, just two little random words wander her mind before she falls asleep on the couch: worse, harder.


End file.
